


strange nature

by blackberry_peachx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Future Fic, He knows what he wants, Keith (Voltron) is Full of Feelings, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild Smut, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Prince Lotor Still Exists, Sexual Content, hunk is beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 15:37:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11293629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_peachx/pseuds/blackberry_peachx
Summary: Keith could barely make out a sleek smirk on Hunk’s face in the dim light, the sight doing strange, delightful things to the tumble of knots in his stomach. Keith smiles too, raising his face in anticipation for a kiss like he wants.“You’re something else, you know that?” Hunk murmurs, voice low and thick with something, awe or bewilderment Keith can’t quite place, but it makes his heart thud against his ribs, makes him draw in breath. “Flying like you do… don’t know if I can keep up.”--Or, Hunk is wonderful and Keith has feelings.





	strange nature

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Coexist by Leo Islo.
> 
> So, I drew this thing I'm posting for Heith Week in a month, but it gave me ideas... and here this thing is. Inspired from my own art. (Is that pretentious? I have no idea--there's so little Heith content, I hope no one minds lmao). I'll post the image link once the day comes up, but I wanted to get this out first. 
> 
> All characters are 20+ (minus the mention of Pidge).

It was a long mission. 

There were several phases, each one necessary to complete to advance to the next stage to ensure the success of the mission, but of course there was always something to trip them up. Contacts to rebel alliances being captured, surprise squadron attacks with arrivals of huge battle cruisers, and the occasional Lion going out of commission at a hard hit. 

Keith and Hunk got separated from the group before they even had a chance to form Voltron in another wave of attack from the Galrans, and it was at that point that Keith tossed battle strategy out the window, as was his norm. Hunk was yelling at him on one communication line, Shiro on another, Lance busy using his sonic cannon to find the location of something or other, and Pidge whipping fighter jets around with her vines. 

He and Hunk managed to take care of the sector of battle cruisers that were threatening to blow the planet up below them though Keith suspected that Hunk’s exasperated thanks and compliments were entirely begrudging. Keith found it hard to argue with him when both of their body armor’s plating was definitely digging into places it shouldn’t, singed and cracked in a bomb explosion on-planet during the first phase of the mission. Hunk had just gotten them out of there in time, and Keith remembered his risky chance taken at the last second to save their asses. No hard feelings, especially when the stability of Voltron was something to consider. 

They formed the massive mecha in time to take out one of Prince Lotor’s generals’ cruisers before the rebel alliance fleet was destroyed, rescue the planet from destruction, save the day, all that. By the end of the transmission with the rebel leader Keith was ready to not do anything for a few weeks or months, in all honesty. Even though he suspected he was probably ticked off at him, Keith hopes in a deep part of him, that Hunk would let him hold him for a moment, after all the close calls. He’ll never admit it aloud, but he yearns for it. 

Back at the Castle, the group gathers at the central docking bay to go over a few things in a brief de-briefing session, but Keith’s mind is elsewhere, too tired but too energized to listen much to what Shiro’s saying. He can see the mix of exhaustion and shock on everyone’s faces as they disband to their own parts of the Castle, but he and Hunk lag behind to shed their damaged chest plates, vambraces and gauntlets for Coran to repair in a special chute-slash-tank, sharing wordless glances that spoke more than they could. Hunk smiles at him, though, and that gives Keith a bit of a swooping feeling in his stomach, and he smiles back. 

They take an empty side hallway back toward the common rooms and the Castle is quiet as they walk together, boots barely making a sound on the metal floors, and neither feels the need to speak just yet. Keith likes that when he’s with Hunk; there’s no pressure to fill the silence with meaningless words unless he wants to, and sometimes Hunk gets going on tangents that Keith doesn’t really keep up with, but he’s always been a good listener. At the moment he would like to talk with Hunk, but he doesn’t quite know how to start, his brain slow to process words. Luckily Hunk starts. 

“That was dangerous,” he says wearily but with a conviction, his sidelong glance penetrating and pensive.

Keith only laughs, having no response other than to agree. It _was_ dangerous—all of it, all of his stupid maneuvers, shots fired, risky chances taken. He knows better now than to argue with his teammates, nearly six years in, unless he really doesn’t deserve their prying. Hunk, however, has a way about it, unlike Lance or even Shiro, that doesn’t grate at him; his words spoken in such a way it doesn’t immediately drive Keith to the defensive. It’s like he knows exactly what to say without hardly saying anything. 

Keith shakes his head. “Which part?” he asks, and Hunk rolls his eyes but a smile stretches across his face fondly. “When I dug my claws into that cruiser’s hull before their sonic cannon went off? Or when you barreled through that squadron of fighters just missing their line of fire? _That_ was risky, Lance even said—“ 

Hunk raises his de-gloved hands placatingly, low chuckles rumbling off the metal panels of the hallway. “Alright, that was definitely a _you_ move, I agree. But if I didn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to de-claw yourself from the hull of the cruiser to help Pidge take out the stupid cannon, so. Moot point.” 

Keith catches Hunk’s eye just as he glances over to him, and it feels like a delicate string is pulled taut down his spine, through his gut, his heart. Even though he laughs a little, Keith’s breath comes short. With Hunk headband-less, helmet off, his shoulder-length hair is askew, wild around his head, and the sweat from battle hasn’t yet dried. Without the chest plate or vambraces on, the black Kevlar-like undersuit clings like a thick second skin, doing lovely things to the shape of his biceps and chest. Hunk absolutely catches Keith’s gaze drifting downward for a few ticks before flicking back up to his golden-hued eyes. Keith may or may not be a tad embarrassed at being found out, but he does nothing to hide the blush that dusts his cheeks. 

They have been dancing around each other for what feels like months now, hesitant to name what _this_ is, ever since the newly-discovered marvel of their mutual attraction. It was at a diplomatic event, everyone decked out in their standard-issue Altean military formal uniforms, color-coded, and they all looked _slick_. Fine. Capes, shoulder pads, tassels, and well-placed pins and buttons really did a number on one’s silhouette all while making them appear commanding and important. Keith couldn’t keep his eyes off Hunk the whole time, vibrant and warm with the nobles and attentive to conversation and gracious with his thanks and touches. He had been nervous before the event, rubbing his hands together and rattling off his worries to Lance before they all stepped off the Castle’s shuttle, but before the large crowd awaiting them, his worries seemed to shed off him like an old coat.

Hunk still remained suspicious but only if Keith looked closely; at the way he breathed carefully before every word, eye glances sideways before sipping from the frothy drinks passing around, and the way his thumb subtly rubbed the tips of fingers when his hands were empty. Keith remembers a distinctive urge to fill those callused and careworn hands with anything: a glass, a pastry, his own hand or shoulder to hold onto on the dance floor. Keith never had an urge to dance in his life, at any diplomatic event or in his regular life, at least until he saw the way Hunk looked out onto the other nobles. Keith didn’t doubt Hunk would be very good at picking up the steps to the foreign waltz-like dance that was the custom on this planet. He quashed the urge, though, and tried to lose himself in the conversation surrounding him. 

Keith might never have approached Hunk if Lance hadn’t found him after several rounds of waltzing on the floor and teased in some details about his best friend, how he kept asking him about Keith, “couldn’t stop looking this way even with a pretty alien in his face,” and he recalls nearly tripping over a step in disbelief. Lance lost his head laughing about it. Hunk looked their way a moment later from across the room and smiled, bright and shy at once, and it must have been the way Keith smiled back that made Lance sigh heavily and shove his shoulder. 

“Just go talk to him,” he had said with a small smile. “Hunk at least knows what small talk is.” 

And Keith did. They talked all night, accommodating a few nobles who wished to thank them and exchange a few slurred greetings as the night wore on, but they were singularly separate from the happenings around them. The talk was never too small to be awkward, never too overbearing, but fun and interspersed with jokes and teasing. It was easy, easier than Keith ever thought it would be to converse almost flirtatiously with the subject of his years of pining and have it returned in kind. It felt like a dream. 

Keith and Hunk lagged behind the others on the way back to the Castle’s shuttle out in the palace’s courtyard, their steps only slightly uncoordinated mostly due to barely contained laughter than drink, not stumbling nearly as badly as Pidge or even Lance. Their teammates were further up ahead in the hallway, Allura conversing with the planet’s monarch with Shiro at her side, and before Keith could put it all together, Hunk was pulling him behind a curtain in a nearby alcove, pulling him up against the length of his body. Keith barely had a second to catch his breath before realizing how Hunk’s hands rested at his waist, large and warm, and how tall he had gotten, filling out in muscle and stature.

He was different in the lit hallway, boisterous and animated, but there, behind that alcove, he was suddenly soft and quiet, thick fingers pressing into the material of his waistcoat, his dark eyes roaming all over his face with such rapt attention. Keith didn’t hesitate to lean up and finish what Hunk started, kissing him full and deep on the mouth, flavored with a foreign strawberry-like taste from the drinks, lips eager and edging on desperate, and he mirrored Keith in all action without the necessity of words. 

They had kissed even more after that, stolen behind the kitchen counters, in quiet hallways and Hunk’s workroom, behind the Lions… and every night Keith went to bed trying his damnest not to grin himself to sleep, thoughts of the Yellow paladin fizzing under his skin and tingling down to his bones. 

Now, it wasn’t any different. 

Lost looking into his eyes, Keith doesn’t realize Hunk had reached out to him until he feels another hand braced against his upper arm under the red pauldron on his undersuit, and his own hands acted without much thought, pulling Hunk forward. Keith steps back into the wall where there was a ledge and he hops up onto it and Hunk follows willingly. Keith could barely make out a sleek smirk on Hunk’s face in the dim light, the sight doing strange, delightful things to the tumble of knots in his stomach. Keith smiles too, raising his face in anticipation for a kiss like he wants. Hunk leans forward to do so but pauses at the last second, their lips barely touching, and one of his hands comes up to fold along the bend of his jaw. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” Hunk murmurs, voice low and thick with something, awe or bewilderment Keith can’t quite place, but it makes his heart thud against his ribs, makes him draw in breath. “Flying like you do… don’t know if I can keep up.” His thumb strokes the growing stubble on Keith’s jaw reverently as he continues, and Keith thinks for a minute with a fell swoop to his stomach that Hunk was going to pull away but he doesn’t. He steps closer between Keith’s knees, his wide frame parting them just right so there’s hardly any space between them. 

Keith doesn’t say anything yet, waits for Hunk to finish his thoughts, always amenable to whatever he has to say unlike anyone else he’s met (with maybe two other exceptions). His fingers tighten into Hunk’s bicep, the other sliding up to grasp at his shoulder, to play at the ends of his soft black hair, and his blood thrums so loud in his ears he swears Hunk can hear it. He swallows thickly as his eyes trace his features, _fuck, he’s handsome_. 

Hunk’s thumb moves to the corner of his mouth, eyes flicking down to watch Keith’s teeth sink into his lower lip, nudges it free. His other hand slips from his elbow to rest atop his armored thigh, sliding over the black material to his hip just above the belt. 

“But… I’m definitely gonna try,” Hunk says at last in what feels like an eternity later, allowing Keith a wide grin, his eyes going impossibly soft and illuminating with a certain fire all at once, and he tilts Keith’s face up again to press their parted mouths together hungrily. 

Keith has a hundred worded responses in his head, all somewhere along the lines of ‘I can wait for you,’ ‘I know you can,’ and ‘why the worry?’ but he doesn’t say anything at all, loses all his thoughts and words, doesn’t spare a moment to break the kiss. He presses his heels into the backs of Hunk’s knees to urge him closer, slides forward just an inch on the ledge. He kisses Hunk deeply and thoroughly in return, their lips slotting together in a delicious wet slide, tongues teasing each other through the thin spaces of their teeth. Hunk nibbles at his lip, sucks at it, and Keith melts embarrassingly fast, sighing and pressing forward, searching blindly for more of his post-battle taste, his warmth.

Keith marvels in how easy, how simple, it is with Hunk for the nth time, to go from 0 to floating away with a happy sort of headiness on his mind, a lightness in his limbs. He loses himself in kissing for another minute or several, enjoying the press of Hunk’s chest and stomach against him, the shape of his muscles under his hands (he will never forget the tantalizing shape of his arms, or the breadth of his shoulders, or how his waist had just barely narrowed in the last six years, all softly padded muscle…), and most of all Hunk’s skillful mouth.

At the beginning of their trysts, Keith thought Hunk would need some sort of prompt to kiss and touch him how he likes, but that was not the case at all—Hunk seemed to know exactly what Keith liked, or he figured it out quickly. Keith was still learning, slowly finding all the places that make Hunk falter and gasp, learning how to twist his tongue almost lazily into his mouth to tangle with his in just that way makes Hunk a little breathless. Sometimes Keith wonders if Hunk’s effortless knowledge was attributable to his stunning proficiency with machines; finding out just what makes it tick with a glance. He couldn’t say he really minded. 

The hand that was holding onto his hip slips around the device in his belt to his lower back, presses, and _oh, nice_. Keith smiles a little at the new pressure and the little jump his heart makes. The ledge he sits on gives them more or less of an equal height, so their hips are practically aligned and he can feel the beginnings of a very interesting situation between both their legs. 

Hunk huffs a laugh at Keith’s dawning realization, cracking open his eyes to watch, and another sleek smirk plays across his kiss-wet lips. “Mission got me riled up, man. And you’re just…,” he starts to say in explanation until Keith’s hands both move to wrap around his waist, slipping down to rest on Hunk’s plentiful ass. He presses just a bit, burrowing his nose up into the underside of his jaw, laying a few sloppy kisses on soft, salt-tinged skin. “O-oh… that’s good, yeah. Real good.” 

“Mhm,” Keith hums through a small laugh, rolling his body and hips forward, squeezes his favorite ass he’s ever seen in the whole universe, and drags his teeth just a bit on Hunk’s neck. He draws in a surprised breath but it dwindles into a low, pleased, rumbling hum, and Keith smirks, _that’s the ticket_. 

He nibbles with his teeth and soothes with his tongue, sucking a shy little mark into dark skin, and Keith can’t explain the head rush it gives him to see it, or the way Hunk’s fingers grapple at the beginning swell of his ass, one hand along the outside of his thigh. He pulls Keith flush against him, rolls his hips, and, “Oh, shit,” Keith gasps just before Hunk swallows the rest of the air from his lungs in a hard kiss. 

Hunk’s hand on his thigh hooks underneath the exposed part of his armor behind the knee but Keith needs no further prompting to raise them, press them into his waist as Hunk rolls his lower half a little more meaningfully. The action shifts Keith back and the way Hunk holds him close pulls him forward, then back again, and it’s just like… it’s just like—“Fuck,” Keith hisses between biting kisses, arms coming up to wrap around Hunk’s neck. 

Slyly, Hunk takes a quick glance up and down the empty hallway with a sharp calculating look behind his eyes that startles a laugh out of Keith before he presses the glowing blue buckle on their belts that keep their suits sealed and their bodies vacuum-packed like sardines. 

“Can I?” Hunk asks in a husky whisper, fingers moving tentatively along the bottom of Keith’s tight undersuit shirt. 

“Shit, yeah, _please_ ,” he answers in the same eager voice, then smirks, “Only if I can, too.” 

“You bet,” Hunk nods, smiling against Keith’s mouth, and their hands slip under each other’s shirts simultaneously, Keith’s along the small of Hunk’s back, admiring the soft and warm skin though he can’t go up as far as he would like unless he wants to literally roll the shirt up. Hunk’s huge palm presses up to his stomach just as he leans forward again to catch Keith’s mouth and continue the slow roll of his hips, pressing his hardness into him and Keith shivers. 

Hunk’s hand moves from his stomach around his waist to his lower back, where his fingers play beneath the belt and inch further downwards to his ass and _damn_ , what Keith wouldn’t give to shuck his armor and pants completely is beyond him. They’ve touched each other intimately once before but this still feels like something different, something exciting, and Keith can’t help the small groans that escape between their kisses when he feels the thick shape of Hunk shifting rhythmically into his groin, still unfortunately confined but the friction is fantastic. He could do this all day.

Still, though, he wants a little more, so he moves his hand around Hunk’s hip to grasp his erection under the thick suit along the crease of his thigh, and Hunk moans so nicely after separating from Keith’s lips with a lewd _smack_. His exhale comes out shaky as Keith strokes along the shape of his swollen length, skims his nails just a bit into the fabric, traces his thumb along the shape of the hard tip. 

“Holy wow…,” Hunk murmurs, hips twitching forward, mouth parting on a sigh, losing himself for a minute under Keith’s movements until he gathers the pieces back. With one hand he gently urges Keith’s shoulders a few inches back into the wall and the other he slips over the hard outline of his erection, rubbing along the length of him, squeezes just so and Keith lights up like a flame, gasping and unconsciously loosening a thigh sideways for more room. “After all the shit you pulled out there, we’re doing this my way. Yeah?”

… _Oh_. Hearing Hunk say what he wants, in that subtle hard voice, like _he’s Hunks_ , how his eyes are still sweet and meaningful at the same time, sets Keith’s stomach to acrobatics and his blood thrumming through his dick in record time. “No way…,” he mutters in disbelief, roiling in the feeling of Hunk’s huge and skillful hand encompassing the whole length of him, and he doesn’t even realize what he said until Hunk pauses. 

“No way?” he questions, eyebrow raising and mouth curling in almost disappointment.

“Yes way,” Keith quickly repairs. “Definitely yes way. Oh my god, _yes way_. Whatever you’ve got.” 

Hunk snorts and shakes his head fondly, fingers slipping upwards to the belt where the opening of the undersuit pants are hidden. “Just say what you mean at the start...,” he mutters under a laugh. 

“Well, you just… you just…,” Keith can’t even finish his retort when Hunk releases the stupidly complicated Altean fastening on his pants one-handedly and barely teases his fingers inside, kisses Keith’s cheek, his jaw, underneath it to his neck. His mouth latches onto the tendon just as his hand slips fully inside, tracing the length of him with his fingers, wraps around him, ruts his own hardness into Keith’s thigh. “Mm, Hunk…,” he sighs, digs his hand into dark black hair, the other grappling for purchase on a burly bicep.

He feels Hunk’s lips pull into a smile briefly before his tongue laves against the small bitten marks, making his way down to the Adam’s apple in his throat, teeth pulling at the neck of his suit. Hunk is way too good with his hands, Keith thinks, his fingers doing something magnificent and thumb swirling around his already wet head, somehow dragging his hand all along him still in the confines of his pants. He’s done it before but it still blows Keith’s mind out of his body, still sends licks of flame up his thighs and through his stomach and entices mindless gasps and moans out of his throat. (The first time Hunk joked with mock disappointment about Keith having regular hardware instead of alien Galra anatomy—he still finds that thread hilarious.) 

Then, Keith’s hands are abruptly empty and he’s hit with a wash of dim blueish light that he couldn’t see before over the shadow of Hunk’s frame, and his eyes fly open to see Hunk’s head dipping downwards. He presses the buckle on Keith’s belt again and it falls away, clacking quietly on the ledge behind him, giving Hunk access to press hot open-mouthed kisses along his lower stomach. He pulls Keith out and grips him in a loose fist and Keith’s heart stutters rapidly in his chest, wanting to watch while helpless to his eyes grinding shut as an obnoxious moan threatens to overtake him but he manages to swallow it at the last second. Hunk’s deft hand works on him and Keith’s head falls back to hit the wall, laying a tentative, glove-less palm on the top of his head, works his fingers into the soft strands, and Hunk hums delightedly. 

“Geez, Hunk,” he sighs without any bite, sweat rolling down his temple, but he smiles a little when golden brown eyes flick up to him, and damn—that is hot. 

Something mischievous shines in Hunk’s face when their eyes lock, moving his mouth to the base of him, lips and tongue working in tandem while his free hand runs along the exposed undersuit on his thigh, traces the sensitive crease between his hips and leg. Hunk moves to lay wet kisses along the underside of him, slowly but with an eager glint in his eyes, all the way up to the head where he teases a pointed tongue out to trace the shape, lick into the sensitive slit. Hunk notices the way Keith bites his lip and raises a hand to cover his mouth, and Hunk chuckles to himself though he is glowing with satisfaction. 

“D’you like that?” he asks with a hint of amusement, thumb pressing underneath the head, and Keith nods quickly if a little jilted.

“Y-yeah…,” he says after he drops his hand from his mouth to rest on Hunk’s shoulder. “A lot,” he tacks on, and Hunk’s brow raises suggestively, a curl forming at his lip. 

“Just you wait,” he murmurs and dives back in, drawing the head of him into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks and Keith can’t wrangle the impending moan back down into his throat. His legs jerk and his back arches as Hunk thoroughly blows him without a trace of hesitation, hand working where his mouth can’t reach, tongue swirling and lapping and sucking. 

Keith’s fingers squeeze involuntarily in Hunk’s hair and he realizes he pulled just a little too late when Hunk’s abrupt hum of surprise alerts him. “Oh, shit, sorry…,” 

“No, no, keep that up,” Hunk affirms when he pulls back, lips spit-slick and a thin line connecting to the tip of Keith’s dick so lewdly, but he doesn’t pay it any mind when he licks it back up into his mouth and swallows him down again. 

_So hot_. Keith digs his fingers in once more with both hands, tugging slightly, and it earns him a rumbling groan around him that seems to work its way all the way down to his toes. He kneads just as Hunk bobs his head, pulling Keith along the flat of his tongue and the roof of his mouth, lips a hard sensation wrapped so tightly around him. The sight is almost too good. He feels a hot coil in the pit of his stomach ready to spring, heat spreading down his thighs and tingling across his skin, all thoughts zeroed down to the wet heat of Hunk’s mouth and the ministrations along his dick, and a part of him feel like he’s in a tailspin. 

Hunk pulls back and his tongue traces the ridges of the head of him, and just looking and feeling it has Keith ready to burst. “H-Hunk, I’m… I’m gonna— _hnng_ ,” Hunk takes him down just in time for him to climax hot and thick into his throat, heels clacking against the metal panels as he shudders through it, mouth open in a silent groan with the breath drawn out of him, and Hunk strokes and sucks him through it, drinks it all down. 

Keith sighs on the descent, fingers stroking through thick black hair reverently, lights still popping behind his eyes when Hunk gives him one last kiss and tucks him back in. Keith doesn’t spare him a moment before he’s pulling Hunk’s mouth in for a heavy kiss when he stands, lips tinged with the tang of him, holding his face in his hands and kissing him for all he’s worth. He also doesn’t give Hunk a moment to press in close before he’s unclasping the fastening to his undersuit pants and finally grasping his amazing thick length, his fingers barely able to meet around the middle of him. He strokes with a lack of finesse, using all his tricks, tightening his fingers and swirling his thumb, heartily welcoming the weak thrusts into his fist. 

He kisses Hunk sloppily and messily until he comes too, catching the release in his palm and careless to any spots that might have landed elsewhere, his hand sticky and slick as Hunk’s hips twitch through his fist, dick throbbing in his palm, and Keith silently relishes at the size of him. One of these days he’s going to toss his pride right out of the airlock and beg Hunk to take him senselessly until he can’t walk for a week, and he knows it’ll be damn good. For now, though, he kisses Hunk sweetly as his climax slows, lips soft and swollen and red, and grins back at Hunk when he huffs a laugh against his mouth.

He wipes his hand carelessly of the excess along the steel ledge and raises what remains to his mouth, lapping it all up to Hunk’s wide-eyed disbelief and feels a pull of satisfaction at the dark blush that overtakes his cheeks. 

“You’re disgusting,” Hunk teases half-heartedly, fingers brushing some clumps of hair behind Keith’s ear. 

Keith snorts dismissively. “It’s exactly what you did. S’pretty good,” he says and shrugs though he honestly doesn’t care for the taste. 

Hunk shakes his head and leans in to lay a few gentle kisses to his brow, his cheekbone, eyelashes fluttering against his flushed face. “Yup, definitely something else. A hellion, or something, bent to ruin me.” 

_Yeah_ , Keith thinks, bending into Hunk like a sunflower to the sun, _definitely want to make_ something _out of this_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I love even teeny little comments! :>
> 
> Catch me at my Voltron blog @space-peachx


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